Echoes
by and that's all she wrote
Summary: Roy didn't answer right away, mouth opening and closing around words that will never see the light of day. Finally, he replied: "You're supposed to be… untouchable." :: Kaldur learns the true nature of his heritage. Roy keeps him from drifting. Koy.


"You left your comm in the cave."

Were it anyone else, Kaldur would have jumped.

As it was, he would be lying if she said he didn't expect Roy at some point that day, given everything that had developed.

"I did not want anyone to follow," he responded, not shifting to look at his friend.

"So you decided terrifying them was a better alternative? You know, after learning your father is a villain, going MIA doesn't send the most encouraging message to your team."

"They are not my team," Kaldur said, the words sharp on his tongue. "Not anymore. They deserve someone better suited to the job—"

"Kal," Roy cut him off, finally moving to sit next to him in the sand. "_You_ are the best suited for the job."

"Robin—"

"Is still just a kid," Roy finished. "He's not ready for this—do you think he would be leading the search for you if he was?"

Silence. The waves lapped at the sand.

"I do not want to bring this burden to the team," Kaldur said. "It is mine alone. They do not deserve to have a leader with this… weight."

Roy scoffed. Kaldur turned to look at him and frowned, about to say something else about how he meant every word, but Roy beat him to it: "You wanna talk about burdens?" He turned to Kaldur, brows arched behind his sunglasses. "Have you _looked_ at your team recently?"

"That is not the point; they have all had time—"

"Then take some time for yourself," Roy said.

"It is not that simple," Kaldur protested.

For a moment, Roy only stares at Kaldur, his eyes flickering over his face, clearly looking for something. Then:

"Why is it you always have to make something more complicated than it needs to be?"

"And you do not?" Kaldur shot back.

Roy, who had been so close (_when had that happened_, he wondered), was suddenly much farther away.

The gap felt like a ravine.

"I don't want to drag you through some drawn-out rehab process," Roy said, eyes focused on the sand in front of him. "It took you two years to help me get where I am, after all… I guess I just expected more of you."

_Right there—those words_.

Kaldur felt something shift; it was subtle, quiet. It took a great deal of perception to notice the intangible change in mood, in tone, and in atmosphere. A somber tone, the color of slate gray, with hints of frustration, tinged red-orange—suddenly that was gone, replaced with something Kaldur couldn't quite put a name to. This was something unknown—uncharted territory, unsure waters. Taking into account everything they had gone through over the years, that statement carried heavy implications indeed.

Then again, this was likely the first time Kaldur was the one threatening to drift away.

_Tread carefully_.

The statement echoed unspoken for the both of them, filling the silence without a sound.

After a few seconds—had it really been so short a time?—Kaldur found something to say: "What exactly do you mean, Roy?"

A shrug. "You're always so… unflappable. Nothing gets under your skin, nothing bothers you. You just pick everyone else up and keep going. You're a rock—the team's rock…" Roy paused—hesitation?—then spoke again: "_My_ rock, really."

Kaldur wondered if it always took extraordinary circumstances to get Roy to open up. Between the cloning, the close call with drugs, and now this—it seemed Roy waited for those moments alone.

"I had no idea…" Kaldur said, looking away.

"You weren't supposed to," Roy muttered. "Though I wondered if you didn't just pick up on it."

"I did not…" Kaldur wasn't sure of what Roy's admission means—at the moment, it was only another item for his mind to decipher, to make sense of.

_There seem to be many of those. _

For the sake of moving forward, Kaldur spokes again: "You still have not entirely explained your statement." Normally Kaldur was not so impatient, but it had been nothing short of a taxing day.

Roy didn't answer right away, mouth opening and closing around words that will never see the light of day. Finally, he replied: "You're supposed to be… untouchable."

A smile, humorless but present, spread across Kaldur's face. "You make it sound as though I am supposed to be perfect." _If only it were so simple._

Roy began to respond, presumably to protest, but Kaldur heard only the waves.

"Am I not allowed to be troubled by this knowledge?" Kaldur asked. "My heritage is part of who I am, inescapably so."

Roy had no response to that. Instead, he addressed something else. "We don't care about who your father might be—I certainly don't, at least."

"It does not matter what you see the situation to be, Roy—"

A frown overtakes Roy's features, brows knitting as he cuts Kaldur off: "Then why can't _you_ see this doesn't change anything?"

"It changes _everything_."

The silence that overtakes them this time is entirely different from the last.

Echoes of memory suddenly come back, sounding in their minds before fading out once more.

"_I see you no differently, my friend. This changes nothing."_

"_It changes _everything_, Kaldur!"_

The message left behind was far more powerful than either of them could say now, even after two years.

Finally, voice joining the sound of the waves:

"Nothing, Kaldur," Roy murmured.

Still lost amidst the memories—of pain and raised voices and a dark, dank apartment and long nights—Kaldur didn't immediately respond.

"What is it you expect of me, Roy?" he asked, eyes sliding shut, blocking the waves from view.

"To let us help you," he answered. There was a pause, in which Roy's gloved hand rests on Kaldur's shoulder for a brief moment, then pulls away. "To let me help you the way you did me."

_And if helping me means distancing yourself?_

He didn't ask that, though. He didn't want to fight with Roy—not now, not when things are still so tumultuous.

"Kaldur?"

He opened his eyes. "I… am not sure." He shook his head. "Now, I am not sure of much of anything."

"Trust me, I know," Roy said. Kaldur turned to see his friend looking at him, the sunglasses gone to expose the bright blue eyes underneath. A faint smile plays at his friend's face as he said: "But a friend once told me that time heals all things—like the way the waves smooth even the roughest surfaces, given the chance."

Something in Kaldur lightened—a dark gray shifting to something closer to a light blue.

Perhaps he was not as lost as he thought.


End file.
